by Farley Mowat
The descendants of men who speared seals on the ice packs of Baffin Bay now not only teach in schools but take an important, and increasing, part in industry—not as brute labor, but as men, of equal stature with all other men. They operate a large, efficient and lucrative fishing industry. They help operate the intricate scientific apparatus of weather stations. They assist in the operation of the trading posts, which are all government- owned and -operated, and which deal with the people at no greater profit than is required to maintain the service. In effect the Greenlanders now own their own economy, though it is supervised by Danish administrators and will be until the native people have reached the point where they can take over full control.
The Greenlanders are rigidly protected from the commercial exploitation which has a stranglehold on our arctic regions. The type of white men who know how easy it is to make a rich living from the heart’s blood of a primitive race are forbidden to enter Greenland and they have no power there.
Natural food sources are protected with sane laws that are enforced, and it is seldom indeed that starvation comes even to the most remote areas inhabited by Greenland Eskimos. When a bad season, or other accident, brings hard times, the administration acts at once, and with full strength, nor does it wait to be shamed or frightened into taking action.
As in our part of the arctic, much of occupied Greenland is of a nature that is inimical to its habitation by Europeans. But the Greenlanders are a part of their land, for they possess the physical and mental heritages of the Eskimos, who long since learned how to live and prosper in that inhospitable region. Now, as a result, the Greenlanders are a race who can live in their own land and be happy there. They may well have something to contribute to the rest of the world in these sick times, and in the times which lie ahead.
And let me make this point clear: the Greenland natives are not serfs to white men’s economic greed. They are not government wards, the voteless encumbrances of politicians. Instead they are a new people of increasing vigor, strength and understanding. Because one humane white race saw far into the future, the Eskimos of Greenland now belong to that future—and the future belongs to them.
So you see, it can be done.
The Canadian artic is, today, a virgin wilderness with its chief resources still buried under ice and glacial rocks. The time is coming when this will no longer be true. The time is coming when—as the Russians already have done—we will be living, working, and enriching ourselves in the sole frontier area which remains to us. It will not be casual exploitation of surface resources, as it is now. It will be a long-term development. When that time comes, and it cannot be far distant, consider the advantages to us of having a population-in-being throughout the bleak northlands. The Eskimos could be such a people. They could be most helpful partners, for they have the intelligence and ability and they alone can live and work in their bleak world without serious discomfort, and without needing the costly shields we should have to erect about white men in the same situation.
Freed of the incubus which we have laid upon them, the Eskimos could become as valuable citizens of this world as we ourselves are. The future of the Eskimos need no longer be limited to the barren rocks of their own land. The terrible days of the Ihalmiut could be put out of men’s minds and in many places, even along the River of Men, new voices would be raised in living laughter where now only the voices of the forgotten ghosts are heard.
All this can happen—and if it comes to pass, it will be our gain.
As for Inoti, the one-year-old son of Ootek—shall it come to pass that in the winters which still stretch ahead, there may be no need for him to place his children under the dark snows because there is no food for them? Shall it come to pass that Inoti’s mother may rest secure in the knowledge that she will never be called upon to walk into the midwinter night and not return, so that Inoti’s children may live for a little longer under the cold dome of the igloo?
In the days of Inoti, the son, the strength of a great people might be made to live once more. In time it would be our strength, and the people would be our people.
And then the dark stain which is the color of blood might at last be wiped from the record of the Kablunait in the place of the River of Men.
During the autumn caribou migration, the People of the Deer speared the animals at crossing places on many inland lakes such as this one in central Keewatin.
Pommela, the shaman, making a bow from sections of caribou antler at his summer camp in the Little Lakes country.
A social evening at Windy River cabin with a song-feast or drum dance in progress. Left to right are Miki, Ohoto (drumming), Owliktuk, Hekwaw and Ootek.
A portrait of Miki taken in the summer of 1947.
Ootek standing among the frost-riven rock of Ino country—country of the Spirits.
Ootnuyuk, one of Pommela’s wives, cleans a caribou skin at the author’s travel camp in the Barrens.
Ohoto making the string figure called Tuktoriak—Spirit of the Deer.
Windy Cabin on the Windy River at Nueltin Lake with (left to right) Yaha, Owliktuk and Miki. The photo was taken just after they had been issued with cast-off army trousers.
A portrait of Pommela, most powerful shaman of the Ihalmiut, taken in 1948.
An oasis of scrub spruce deep in the Keewatin tundra, not far from the Little Lakes. The skein of lines in the foreground is made up of caribou trails.
A fine buck caribou, killed in late autumn and cached for winter use. The upturned head resting on its own antlers will make it visible after the snows have fallen.
Yaha cleaning his knife after skinning and quartering a caribou on the banks of the Kazan River.
A young Padlei woman carrying her child in the amaut, standing outside a travel snow house. She is in full winter dress.
A winter camp of the People of the Deer. The conical summer topay is still in use because not enough snow has yet accumulated for the making of snow houses.
A starving woman of the Paliermiut, during the famine of 1948–49. She wears the facial tattoos which were customary until about 1940.
A row of Inukshuk—semblances of men—on a ridge in the Barrenlands. The Innuit hunter standing among them gives an idea of their size.
About the Author
Farley Mowat was born in Belleville, Ontario, in 1921. He began writing upon his return from serving in World War II and has since written 44 books, which have sold nearly 25 million copies in more than 60 countries. He spent much of his youth in Saskatoon and has lived in Ontario, Cape Breton and Newfoundland, while traveling frequently to Canada’s far north. Throughout, Mowat has remained a determined environmentalist, despairing at the ceaseless work of human cruelty. His ability to capture the tragic comedy of life on earth has made him a national treasure in Canada and a beloved storyteller to readers around the world. He lives in Port Hope, Ontario.
Copyright © 2012 by Farley Mowat Ltd.
Originally published in 1951
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Cover design by Jessica Sullivan
Cover illustration by Brian Tong
Map by Eric Leinberger
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nada Council for the Arts, the British Columbia Arts Council, the Province of British Columbia through the Book Publishing Tax Credit and the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund for our publishing activities.